A Minor Variation
by Wonder Twins of Newsies Fandom
Summary: The Newsies embark on a spring break adventure, Northwest style. And with us writing, things will get a wee bit freaky AU fic
1. Normal

I don't know why I have to wake up so God forsakenly early just to drive to Oregon. I suppose it's my fault. It's my family's timeshare and it was my idea to get "an early start" but it doesn't mean I'm not kicking myself.

It's still early, the sky is just starting to bleach out in the promise of morning. I am getting the urge to throttle myself for mentioning the timeshare on the beach because no one wanted to get up and they're all voicing their opinions. Those who are awake anyway.

"I can't function without my morning latte," Skittery complains almost petulantly. "Can we stop at a Starbucks on the way?"

"Or a McDonalds!" Jack pipes up. "I need food!"

My sister, Sarah, who happens to be his girlfriend (more of his _keeper_ if you ask me), prods him angrily in the side.

"Jack, no," she squawks, not a pretty sound at five in the morning. "You can't have all that grease. You went up, like, two pounds since last month."

Jack—who, in all truth, is built like a God—pouts. "Shut up, Sarah."

I rub my temples tiredly as a pair of arms snake their way around my waist.

"Morning, sweetie!" the ever chipper voice of my boyfriend chimes in my ear. How Mush can be so perky this early is beyond me but I'm thankful for him amongst the grumbling masses.

I turn my head slightly so he can kiss me before dropping his duffel bag in the arms of his brother, Blink. It's rather a sick joke amongst us with the two of them because they're brothers but they obviously don't have the same father. Everyone knows this except for them, it seems.

I yawn massively and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Hey, is your friend coming?" I ask him. "What is it? Cara, Kayla…"

"Christie," he corrects. "And she is. I told her five but I guess she heard wrong."

"Great," Claudia chimes in from her permanent position at Spot's side. "The new girl who, why the hell is she even _coming_, is late."

Spot elbows Claudia who elbows him back. She's possibly the only one who can get away with that but that comes with being his best friend.

"Hey," Mush says. "You may wanna be nice, Claude. She's a lezzie too and you two could end up dating."

She rolls her eyes dramatically. "As if."

I nudge him with my hip. "Stop trying to set people up."

Okay, aside from the migraine of getting everyone up, I really can't wait to get to the house and cuddle with him by the fire…there can be fires in April, or reenacting _From Here to Eternity_ on the beach…

"You know, this is _my_ van, so shouldn't we leave when _I_ want?" Specs.

"Your van looks like you're going to entice children to enter it with candy," Blink puts in.

Jack elbows him lightly and the two of them snicker. Specs rolls his eyes and rests his head on Dutchy's shoulder. Probably from sheer habit since the two of them haven't really been Jack and Diane as of late.

"I want my latte!"

"I want food!"

"I am _not_ enticing children into my van!"

"Where is this chick? I wanna _go_!"

I rub my sinus area tiredly with my free hand and groan. Mush puts his lips on my temple and kisses me lightly. Thank God for my perfectly normal boyfriend…usually perfectly normal boyfriend…sometimes perfectly normal boyfriend. Okay, he's perfectly normal _right now_ so shut up.

"Seriously," Claudia repeats, shoving away Spot who's tugging on her ridiculously curly brown hair. "Where is this chick? Mush-head, you said that she lived in our dorm block so what's taking her so long?"

Mush shrugs. "I dunno."

Dutchy opens his mouth for the first time since we've gotten down, shrugging Specs off of his shoulder.

"Maybe that's why she's running late." He points across the parking lot toward the blonde girl tugging a huge suitcase behind her while trying to balance a backpack on her shoulders and a duffel bag on her other arm.

"Dude," Claudia says with a definite hint of annoyance in her voice. "We're only going away a week. It's not like we're fleeing the country or anything. I already don't like her."

Spot hits her. "Don't make snap judgments."

She hits him back. "Shut up, Mr. Hypocrite."

I roll my eyes while Jack and Blink go to help her with her bags.

"You know," Sarah says. "I need to talk to Jack about this. About how women should be able to carry their own bags without men doing it for them."

"Shut up," Dutchy says to her, rolling his eyes towards Specs and then stopping halfway through when he realizes what he's doing. "David, tell your sister she's no longer allowed to take women's studies. It makes her act like a raging, bull dyke."

"Hey!" Claudia says, most likely for the dyke thing.

Sarah opens her mouth to go into a rant but decides to shut up since Mush's new friend has joined us.

I notice her looking at Sarah and Claudia and remember Mush's lesbian thing. Ah, so she's on our side. Good. The last thing we need is another hetero girl hanging around with us. Even if Sarah doesn't act like one half the time. I notice her paying special attention to Claudia but it's probably due to her insanely curly hair and the fact that she has the height and proportions of a twelve-year-old.

Mush extracts himself from me to give his friend an exuberant hug and nearly knocks her over.

"This is Christie Brinks," he says with a huge grin on his face.

Dutchy starts cackling insanely, falling against the white side of Specs's van and convulsing. Laughter is erupting from his body, sending tremors up and down it and he sounds like a mentally retarded hyena.

"What?" she asks in a confused voice.

"Christie Brinkley," Specs explains.

"Uptown giiiirl!" Dutchy manages between laughs. "She's been livin' in her Uptown wooorld—"

Spot silences him by whacking him soundly in the shins with his backpack. Claudia and Blink start to laugh. I give a sigh.

"Everyone, let's get the introductions out of the way please?" I ask. "So we can go. Okay, that's Christie. That's Thomas—"

"Spot."

"_Spot_ Conlon, Jack Kelly, you know Mush and that's his brother, Blink."

"My real name's Will," Blink supplies.

Christie looks from the curly-haired boy with his arm around to her to the grinning blonde. "You're brothers?"

They share a confused look.

"Yeah," Mush says, still confused. "You know…everyone is always surprised when we say that."

I give a small laugh but it's a dry one. Mush decides to continue the introductions. He leaves Christie's side and puts his arms around me.

"This is David, my boyfriend. That's his sister Sarah. And Lindsey—"

"Skittery! Not Lindsey! Lindsey is the evil, devil name!"

"Okay, that's Skittery Newcomb. And Claudia Samms, Daniel Hornstone—"

"Horenstein," Specs corrects. "And just call me Specs."

Mush stamps his foot a little so he can continue. "And Anton Aarden."

"Dutchy," he clarifies.

Christie blinks her eyes as if she's incredibly confused. I can't blame her. Not only do you have a bunch of people you've never met, you have a bunch of people you've never met with multiple names.

"Okay, we've met, let's go," Claudia, the impatient little git, pipes up. "Come on, Thomas, I want the back."

Spot kicks her as the two of them get in Specs's van. I force a grin at her.

"We're normal, really…"

"Jack, no! You're not bringing your lighter!"

My grin becomes even more forced if that's possible. "Really. We are."


	2. Jonesing

"She's been livin' in her uptown world! As long as anyone with hot blood can, and now she's lookin' for a downtown man, that's what I am!" Dutchy wails at the top of his longs from the passenger seat. This is the fourth time I've heard "Uptown Girl" this morning and we've only been on the road for twenty-three minutes. I am going to kill someone.

"Specs!" I shout, grabbing onto his shoulders from behind his seat. "Pull the fuck over."

"Jesus, Skittery, what's your damage?" Specs looks at me in the rear-view mirror, his eyes wide with shock.

"There is. A Starbucks. Right there," I pant as I point out the window at the glorious goddess on the green-and-white sign. God, I love Washington. There's a Starbucks on every corner. Literally.

Specs graciously pulls into the parking lot, and David groans beside me. "Let's just go to the drive-through, we don't have time for this."

I turn my head and glare at him. "David... if we go through the drive through, I have to take my drink as-is. I have a certain way I have to mix it, or I can't drink it. Do you really want to deal with me like this for the entire trip down to Seaside?"

David stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head. "Just make it quick."

I hop out of Specs' bizarre child-molester van and nearly sprint into the coffee shop. I approach the counter, nearly dying of anticipation.

"Welcome to Starbucks. What can I get for you today?"

I flash the barista a big smile, because although she isn't quite aware of it, she is the new love of my life. She is my savior. "Venti non-fat, sugar-free, iced vanilla latte, three extra shots, with room, please."

She nods and turns around to bark the order to the barista behind her. "Would you like to try a scone or muffin with that today, sir?" I love this about the coffee shops around here... you need more than ten words to order a cup of coffee and it doesn't strike anyone as weird.

I shake my head, staring at the espresso machine behind her. "No, thanks."

"Okay, that'll be three ninety-five, please."

I hand her the money and stand as patiently as I can at the counter, grabbing my latte just as the barista sets it down. I stride over to the mixing station, smiling at the freshly-filled shakers at my disposal – powdered vanilla, chocolate, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and they all go into my drink, followed by half-and-half and five packets of Splenda. I mix it together and put the lid back on, taking a long, slow sip from the straw and almost moaning out loud from the sheer pleasure of this heaven-in-a-cup.

Climbing back into the van, I receive a few terrified stares. Everyone looks at me like I'm some sort of serial killer. I smile pleasantly and slide back into my seat next to David, sipping my drink contentedly. "Okay, let's go!"

Specs starts driving again, and not thirty seconds in, a sharp slapping noise sounds throughout the van. "Dutchy, I swear to God, you touch that fucking rewind button again and I'll chop your hand off and make you eat it!"

Dutchy pouts. "I just want to hear it _one more time_, Specs." He looks back at Christie. "She needs to understand."

"I don't care!" Christie calls from next to Mush. "I don't even listen to Billy Joel!"

Everyone in the van, including me, gasps. Mutters of "What the hell is wrong with her?" and "Sacrilege!" can be heard, and disapproving stares are aimed in Christie's direction.

"What?" she asks, blinking those big blue eyes at Mush. "What's so wrong with that?"

Mush puts his arm around Christie's shoulders, sighing. "Babe," he says, stroking her long blond hair, "you can't be in this group and not listen to Billy Joel. It's what we do. If you don't listen to Billy Joel, you can't really hang out with us because not listening to Billy Joel is like... well... it's bad, okay?"

Christie rolls her eyes and shrugs. "I guess I'll get used to him, then."

"Do you at least listen to Elton John?" Spot pipes up from the back.

Christie nods. "Well, yeah, who _doesn't_ listen to Elton John?"

"We forgive you, then."

The exchange is interrupted by the smell of sulfur permeating the air.

"God damn it, Jack," we hear Sarah mutter, and I turn around to watch as she throws a book of matches out the window. "What is it with you and fire?"

"What is it with you and being a bitch?"

Sarah hits him and I take a sip of my drink. This is going to be a fun trip.


	3. SHAZZAM!

It's taken I don't know how many hours to get to this stupid Timeshare and I have to say…

Damn.

It's _nice_. It's a pale yellow Victorian job complete with wraparound porch, widow's walk and those curlicue dealies that are on gingerbread houses. A little orange cat is jogging in the door, though, and it makes me a bit pissy.

"David, who's been feeding those cats?" I ask irritably.

Claudia puts her arm around me. "Calm down, Thomas. We can feed them."

She's giving me this super sweet smile and I want to punch her. She knows I care a lot about animals. It comes with being a vegetarian. I can't not eat them and then not care about them. It's just wrong.

Admittedly, that's not the only reason that I'm testy. The trip was literally hell. Blink stole Skittery's minibag of Skittles and nearly lost his _other_ eye to that insane, caffeine addict. And I actually felt bad for Mush's little friend. Shortly after stopping at Starbucks, Mush had gotten bored of convincing the little wench that Billy Joel was God on earth and figured that making out with David would be a great time filler. Thus, the blonde chick was stuck sitting alone and unable to talk to anyone.

Jack and Sarah had about ten arguments while Specs and Dutchy had twenty (although, to be honest, I can't exactly _blame_ Specs for his anger). All in all, it was a perfectly average car trip for us.

But now we're here and there's a problem: who's going to be in whose room? David is setting down a rule that Jack and Sarah can't room together. So Sarah's currently talking his ear off about how he's suppressing her and being a misogynist when he really doesn't want them to get up to the nasty while we're on the trip. Understandable. Them doing it would be a plague on _all_ of our houses since Jack likes to yell out the names of campy, seventies super heroes as he comes. I don't want to be awoken in the middle of the night by someone shouting 'Shazzam!' at the top of their lungs.

Specs and Dutchy also don't want to be together but they then realize that the option is either rooming with me or Skittery and so they choose each other by default. Assholes.

David and Mush are together—this pisses Sarah off too because _he_ gets to be with his boyfriend—and Jack and Blink are together. They already have their heads bent together, whispering and giggling. I'm assuming they're plotting and I'm assuming it involves smashing stuff.

It's decided that all of the girls go together and Claudia kicks Sarah in the shin before she can get into a segregation rant. Thus, I'm stuck with Skittery. I hate my life.

"What time is it?" Specs asks suddenly. "I just realized that the clock in the van was broken."

"Yeah, so's the tape deck."

"That's because _you_ broke it."

"Semantics."

This arguing has been going on since we got in the van. They are obviously still in love so I don't see why they don't just shut the fuck up and screw and make up.

I actually like the weather here. It's morning so it's still chilly and I need my denim jacket still but it's nice. A nice breather from our shitty ass winters. That's when I catch sight of Dutchy. He's from California, the San Fernando Valley to be exact, and doesn't seem to grasp the fact that beaches here are _cold_. He's shivering and freezing his perky little ass off and I'm laughing.

I'm a bitch.

"Thomas." Claudia seizes my arm. "Let's go inside."

I grab our bags and follow her up the stairs and into the house. Inside, it's completely the opposite of the outside: spacious, bright, modern. It's really nice.

"Wow," Claudia breathes. "This place isn't half bad."

"Agreed."

We make our way to the stairs and as we ascend, I throw my arm around her shoulders.

"So, what do you think of Christie?"

She gives me a glacial look.

"What?" I give her one right back.

"You're signing onto Mush's train of thought of setting us up," she accuses. "I know it."

"I am not. You're being irrational and paranoid again."

"You're the irrational one!"

"_I am not!_"

We have this argument about five times a day with variations on the start of it. How we've remained friends is beyond me. By this time, we've reached the top of the stairs and are heading towards our respective rooms.

"I'm not trying to set you up with her," I continue. "I'm just asking how you feel about her."

She shrugs and tosses her bag into a room that I suppose is now the girls' room.

"I don't know," she replies. "I mean, I just met the chick and it's not like she talked during the ride since Mushy got bored and started macking David. It's like she didn't make an effort."

I smirk. "Come on, Claude. If you didn't know any of the others, you'd be stuck to my side like a conjoined twin."

She hits me and I hit her back. This is a sign that she agrees with me. She does that whenever we've reached an agreement and I have the bruises to prove it. I put my arm around her and we head back downstairs where yet another fight is occurring.

Specs and Dutchy are arguing about something; I have no idea what. Nor do I really care to be perfectly honest.

"Dutchy, I don't _care_ about Zuma. For the last time, these beaches suck for surfing!"

Oh, dear God. They've resorted to arguing about the beach. God, if you love me, kill me now. I share a look with Claudia, who is barely suppressing laughter. She grabs my hand and squeezes hard to show just how hard keeping her mirth in is.

The fight goes on for awhile, taking much longer than needed to diffuse. That's probably because everyone who's not Specs or Dutchy found it immensely hilarious. By the time we've broken it up, it's time for lunch and we realize something: who the hell is going to cook?

"Let's just go out," Jack suggests. "I'm sick of being all pent up like a wild animal."

"You _are_ a wild animal," David snaps.

He looks suddenly pissy and I soon see why: Mush and Blondie are all curled up together, holding hands and whatnot.

"Jack wouldn't feel so pent up if you'd let us room together," Sarah puts in randomly. No one is following her logic either and Skittery snorts a laugh from his spot on the couch.

"You're not rooming together!"

"Why not? You're being very chauvinistic, David!"

"I don't care. You're my sister and I'm not letting you room with your boyfriend!"

"But you can room with _your_ boyfriend?"

Great, another fight. I drag Claudia over to a chair and we both sit in it. I'm thankful we're both so small that we can fit in tiny places and still be comfortable.

"Rooming with Mush is different!"

"Tell me why I can't room with Jack!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE YOU PUT OUT ANYWAY SO WHAT DOES IT MATTER?"

That's Jack. We all stand in stunned silence. Jack's standing in the middle of the room, his hands clenched in his fists at his side and his eyes squeezed shut. His mouth is open comically wide like Lucy from _Peanuts_ when she gets really pissed off at Charlie Brown. I don't know who starts it but someone laughs and soon we're all laughing.

By the time we finish, we still don't know what we're going to do about our food situation. Blink suggests going to the beach and Jack wants to go deface the Lewis and Clark statue because, evidently, he always hated that fucking thing. David thinks we should set up a chart to know who should cook when and other chores. Skittery wants Blink to buy him another minibag of Skittles and stop at a Starbucks. Specs and Dutchy are arguing again about what to do. Personally, I don't care. I'm pretty comfortable right now.

I notice that Claudia's rolling her eyes next to me.

"What?"

"Why don't they get a room?" she gestured to Christie and Mush. "I mean, isn't he gay…and taken?"

I gesture to the fact that we're crammed together on the chair so close that we're nearly on top of each other.

"Shut up," she says, elbowing me in the side.

"Ow!" I snap, even though it doesn't really hurt.

She just elbows me again. "You'll live."

I glower. The things I do for my friends.


	4. Masticated

"Whatcha makin', Mush-boy?" Blink peeks over my shoulder at the pan of hamburgers I'm frying.

I roll my eyes. "Burgers, Blink, what does it look like? Masticated cow flesh or something?"

Blink laughs, and I'm not sure why. 'Masticated' is a totally smart word, and he told me to stop talking like an idiot all the time. He even got me a Word-a-Day calendar, and that was yesterday's word. "They smell good. What'd you put on them? Let me taste one." He starts reaching into the pan and I smack his hand, causing him to jerk it away and pout. "Ow! I'm telling Mom!"

"Blink, you're twenty years old, don't you think you're a little old to go running to Mommy every time I do something you don't like?"

"Why not? You do."

"Yeah, but that's because I'm the baby and she'll listen to every little word I say, and go 'Oh, poor Matt, my poor little boy...' and you get in trouble for it. It's not my fault Mom loves me more." Blink looks hurt, and I kind of feel bad. I wasn't trying to be mean, it's just, it's true, Mom loves me more. But then, Dad hates me, and I'm not sure why.

"So, is one of you, like, adopted or something?" Christie asks as she sits on the counter, sipping the banana-and-Skittles smoothie that Skittery made.

"Why does everyone always ask that?" I turn around and look at Christie, and she takes another sip through her straw and shrugs. I shake my head and turn back to the stove to find Blink shoving a towel under the frying pan into the flame. "Blink!"

Blink straightens immediately, clasping his hands behind his back. "He told me to do it!" he exclaims defensively, jerking his head back toward Jack, who is standing behind him and looking around the room innocently.

"Everybody, get out of the kitchen!" I stamp my foot on the linoleum floor and sigh in frustration. "Now!"

Blink and Jack shuffled out sadly, and Christie looks up at me. "Do I have to leave too, Mushie?"

I smile at her. "No, you can stay. Just don't get in my way while I'm trying to cook."

"Mush, the stove's on fire," Spot says as he strolls in to get a soda out of the fridge. I curse and run over to the stove to lift the pan off the burner and pull the burning towel out. "What're you cooking, anyway?"

"Hamburgers," I grumble as I throw the towel into the sink and turn the water on.

"_Mush_," Spot whines.

"What?"

"I'm a vegetarian."

I groan and shake my head. "Fine. Do you want me to make you some macaroni and cheese?"

"That would be awesome."

Like that one's guys dog came to the sound of a bell, Dutchy pops up in the kitchen doorway. "Did somebody say they were making mac-and-cheese?" He looks at me all puppy-eyed, which doesn't really work because Dutchy can't pout. "Can I have some?"

"Well, I was just going to make some for Spot because he's a vegetarian and we're having hamburgers for dinner and--"

"There's more than one box, right?" Dutchy starts looking through the cupboards and pulls down two boxes of macaroni and cheese. "Just make two of them."

Specs is glaring at him from the doorway. "You're an ass, Dutchy, Mush is already making dinner."

"Well, it won't take any more effort to make two boxes of mac-and-cheese if you do it in the same pot!"

Specs just throws his hands up and walks off, and Dutchy jogs after him, yelling a thank-you to me over his shoulder.

"How do you function with everything that goes on in this group?" Christie asks, setting her glass down and pulling me back against her to rub my shoulders.

"I guess you just sort of get used to it. At least it's never boring, there's always some sort of drama." I lean my head back against her chest and sigh. "Thanks for coming with me, though. I think you'll have fun. And everyone will love you once they get to know you." Christie leans down to kiss my forehead and I sigh.

"When's dinner?" I look over to the door to see David standing there, looking irritated.

"The burgers are done, I just need to make Spot's... well, and Dutchy's macaroni." I stand up and go over to kiss his cheek, and David just frowns at Christie before going to grab a plate out of the cupboard and fixing himself a burger. I don't know why he's looking at Christie like that. Maybe it's because she was rubbing my shoulders... that's kind of what David does for me when I'm all stressed out, and I guess maybe he's a little mad that I would let someone else do it. Or maybe he's mad that she kissed me... but then... well, why would he be mad about that? It's not like anything's going on, I mean, she's a _girl_, and straight people are gross.

Everyone seems to have heard that the burgers are ready, because they all file into the kitchen to grab one. Jack nods as he chews a bite, looking at me. "This is pretty good masticated cow flesh, Mush!"

I roll my eyes. "Shut up, Jack, don't make fun of me."

"What? I was just saying, it's good."

"Yeah, but you called it masticated cow flesh. I know what hamburger is made of."

Jack blinks at me. "So why can't I call it masticated cow flesh?"

I set my jaw and glare at him. "Jack, I'm not stupid. If it was cow, they wouldn't call it _hamburger._"


	5. Plastered

Did you ever notice that when you're not blinded by love or friendship or whatever that the people you know are really assholes.

Take high school. I was best friends with this kid Andrew Pearson in sophomore and half of junior year, right? Well, we were best friends, closer than close. We could finish each other's sentences, came up with seven inside jokes a minute, it felt like. We were just about the able to read each other's minds state.

Well, halfway through junior year, he started hanging out with this kid Luke Michaels. They were managers for the wrestling team. Yeah, they weren't good enough to make it so they passed out towels and all that. Luke is the real 'quick to hate' type and he didn't like me because I said something about the first amendment, and he was like 'what's that?' and I explained it to him and apparently I didn't explain it "nicely" enough and he hated me (dude, we were juniors in high school, who _didn't_ know what the first amendment was?). So, slowly, he began to turn Andrew against me.

They started ignoring me all the time for no reason and ditching me and talking behind my back like a couple of girls. And I started noticing things about Andrew that I hadn't noticed before. He had really bad hair; it always looked in need of a wash. He was one of those guys who wore eyeliner and his eyes were pretty deep set to begin with so they looked like they were in the back of his skull. His voice was really loud and annoying and he always acted like a man bitch. And, when he talked, his elbows were practically welded to his sides like a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

The point of that is because now that Specs and I are broken up, I'm seeing the same thing. He chews with his mouth open, his hair always needs a good combing, his glasses are smudged half of the time, he corrects people's grammar more than David does…the list goes on.

So I'm totally over him. Who wants to be with a guy with smudged-up glasses? I know I don't. Even if he was the guy who convinced me that I liked the penis and he came with me when I went back to the Valley to come out to my parents and he just gets me and…

Fuck. I can't even convince _myself_ that I'm over him. And we broke up for a really stupid reason. Hell, I can't even _remember_ it. But dude, if he's going to be such a whiny little baby about it, forget him…right?

Anyway…us.

Dinner's over and we're all sitting in the spacious living room. Sarah just got done having some tiff over something Jack did or didn't do that suppressed her in some way. I want to suggest to her taking some Midol but I have a feeling that she'd called me a 'chauvinist pig' and then castrate me. Blink and Jack aren't paying attention to anyone else but each other, giggling like a pair of fifth graders and loading more firewood into the hearth while my loathed ex is sitting placidly by, reading.

This is when the funny stuff starts, really. Skittery is separating his newly acquired bag of Skittles on the floor, sitting Indian-style and muttering under his breath as he does so. Spot and Claudia are curled on a chair together, looking more like a couple than best friends. Sometimes I wonder how the two of them are gay.

Speaking of which, Mush and Christie are curled up on the couch, tickling each other lightly. David's pouting like a spurned soap opera diva next to him. He hasn't said anything about it but I can tell he's pissed. Can't really blame him. Mush has known this chick, what, two months? He and David have been dating since the beginning of school.

"Where is he?" Sarah's annoyed voice suddenly cuts through the air.

Ah, Jack and Blink have disappeared. Not exactly a bad thing but I have a feeling that our two, older friends have gone off to do some property damage. Those two, it's vinegar and baking soda. I'm just waiting for something to explode.

I really couldn't care where they are and I decide to be a good friend to David because I really don't talk to him that often.

"Hey, blonde chick," I call to Christie. "Come here for a second. You need to be educated more."

A little reluctantly, Christie extrapolates herself from Mush to join me. Immediately, David takes her place and they start to cuddle.

Point, me.

"I really don't want to listen to Billy Joel anymore," she tells me as she nears my spot on the floor.

"Well, too bad."

Before she can answer, we all hear glass breaking and look in the kitchen doorway to see Jack with a bottle in his hand and deep, red liquid seeping over his bare feet. Blink is behind him with more bottles, including a bottle of vodka and one of bourbon.

"Hey, Davey," he says gleefully. "Did you know that this place totally has a monster, liquor storage in the basement?"

"Yeah, door's in the back of the pantry," David says.

"There's booze here and you didn't tell us?" Spot asks, reaching for one of Blink's bottles while Claudia rolls her eyes.

"Well, let's crack these babies open and get shitfaced!" Blink proclaims, hoisting his bottles into the air.

Specs glances up from his book and eyes the wine on Jack's feet. "And I say let's have Cowboy clean up the wine and glass that's all over the floor since he dropped it. Skittery, get the corkscrew."

David and Sarah's faces sour—scratch that, _David's_ face sours; Sarah's is always like that—and I guess they don't like the idea of all of us getting drunk in their family's house. Jack and Blink especially since Jack's managed to break a bottle _sober_.

But really, we're college students. We're responsible. What could possibly go wrong?

--

"Saturday! In the park! I think it was the Fourth of Juuuullllyyyyyy!" Mush sings drunkenly, brandishing his bottle of red wine and toppling into David.

David holds the bottle steady but he's not exactly sober himself. I'm rather giggly and clutching the vodka bottle. I'm sitting with Spot, Christie and Claudia on the couch and feel rather manly if I do say so myself.

"Ah-whooooooo!" Jack and Blink scream as they clink their wine bottles together. "Werewolves of London!"

Sarah is even smiling and, I swear, I didn't know that girl had teeth. I'm sitting far away from Specs so I don't do anything stupid like say that I still have feelings for him. Which I don't. Kinda.

Claudia is reciting the weight loss bit from Kevin James and we can't stop laughing. She's laughing too, in the midst of telling the jokes. Of course, the two of them are complete lightweights and are sufficiently tossed.

I toss back some of the vodka and sputter when Claudia proclaims, "I hate when people heavier than you give weight loss advice! It's like 'what ya gotta do is—', 'yeah, not listen to _your_ fatter ass!'"

I spit the vodka back into the bottle and this elicits a chorus of 'ew's in my direct vicinity.

"Nice one," Spot says with a smirk.

"Shut up." I shove him and he topples off of the couch.

As he staggers up, Claudia launches into another joke from the stand up. She's pretty good at reciting jokes and even throwing in her own, exaggerated mannerisms that I'm fairly certain are only there because she's shitfaced. But, if she was like this all the time, in an alternate universe where everyone was straight (even though, truthfully, she'd probably be with Spot; she calls him Thomas, it's adorable, gag me), I'd seriously consider dating her.

But as it stands, she's the funny, drunk lesbian and I'm the tossed gay boy who just left a shit load of backwash into a bottle of vodka. And I'm okay with that.

Abruptly, the music turns on (Blink and Jack are undeniably in control) and the theme from _Flashdance _comes blaring out. You know that 'What a Feeling?' song? Well, Jack and Blink turn it up so loud that it's shaking the walls and are dancing together.

Seriously, how are they straight? Give me proof that they're straight.

I start to stand and look at the group behind me.

"Who wants to dance with me?" I call.

And it has to be the booze because both girls jump up. I'm surprised that Christie is actually talking to someone other than Mush but it has to be the booze. I dance with her and, of course, Claudia and Spot are dancing together. Spot dancing is something I never thought I'd see. But it's funny. Especially because he and Claudia are pretty much exactly the same size so it's like watching The Lollypop Guild in _The Wizard of Oz_.

Not that I'd ever say that.

I spin Christie around and she starts to laugh a little. Then I start to walk back and topple into someone's lap. I look up. Shit.

"You are always an idiot when you're drunk," Specs says. His words are slurred so he's totally drunk too, so he can shut the hell up.

"You're always an ass when you're drunk. Wait, you're an ass all the time!" Not my best material but give a guy a break.

Specs shoves me off of him and I stumble into the middle of the room before knocking Skittery over. This sends everyone into peals of laughter and the two of us—though stunned—can't help but join in. Then I glance back at Specs and give him a goofy grin.

But that doesn't mean I want to get back together.


	6. Smile

"Darlin', I don't know why I go to extremes!" Dutchy spins me around for what seems like the eight-hundredth time and I think I might puke but that's okay, I'm having fun. "Too high or too low, there ain't no in-between!" He wails along with the stereo, which is actually a song I've heard before and totally didn't know who it was.

"You can be sure when I'm gone," I sing back at Dutchy along with the incomparable Mr. Joel, "I won't be out there too long!"

"Darlin', I don't know why I go to extremes!" we finish together, collapsing against one another in a fit of giggles.

Dutchy grins at me and gives me a little hug. "I think we need a little more booze," he says, "I'm gonna run down to the pantry and get some more. Anybody want to come with me and help me carry some up?"

"I'm too drunk to move," Skittery mumbles from the couch, with his first and only highball of vodka and cranberry juice in front of him, half-empty.

"I'll go," Spot chirps, and he and Dutchy run off towards the stairs to the basement.

The song changes to "Crocodile Rock," and I nearly scream with delight. "Whoever made this CD is like a god!" I cackle, going into some weird can-can-type dance. "Someone _has_ to come dance with me!" I set my bottle of brandy down and hold my arms out to Mush. "Mushie, baby, come dance with me."

Mush lifts his head up from its position on David's shoulder, shaking it. "Nah, thanks, Christie. I'm just going to stay here for a while, I'm comfy." He shrugs and smiles at me apologetically. "I'm sure someone else will dance with you, though."

I pout and stand there for a second. I don't _know_ anybody else, and nobody else really _likes_ me... not that they've made an effort to get to know me, anyway. They're all really cold and closed to new people... I mean, you should've seen the way David looked at me in the kitchen earlier tonight, and all I was doing was rubbing Mush's shoulders because everyone was taking advantage of him and he was stressed out. No one here will voluntarily spend time with me, except for maybe Dutchy, but I'm pretty sure that's just because he just wants to drag me into his weird little cult of die-hard Billy Joel lovers.

Everyone here hates me and they've made no secret of that fact.

"I'll dance with you," says a voice from behind me. I turn around to see that Claudia girl, and she shrugs. "You know, seeing as my dancing partner ran off with Dutchy and all." She smiles at me, and surprisingly enough, she has kind of a pretty smile. Not too much teeth, but not too little, and it doesn't take over her whole face like some people's smiles do... it just kind of tugs at the corners of her mouth and shows in her eyes. It's nice.

Um, anyway.

She could just be acting nice towards me because she's being forced to share a room with me for this whole trip and doesn't want to start a fight, but even if that's the case, I don't mind. I'm not in much of a position to deny someone being nice to me at the moment, especially not when they seem to have a lot of pull in this weird little group.

Claudia takes me by the hand and pulls me out to the middle of the living room to dance. Jack and Blink hoot and holler at us, and then fall together, laughing and sharing a bottle of tequila. They've quit paying attention to us, and everybody is kind of doing their own thing. Sarah is the only one still watching us, and she's doing so kind of intensely. I think about inviting her to join us, but then I remember she's a crazed feminist and might try to eat my head for suggesting that she do something so cliché and show-offish in front of a bunch of horny boys.

Whatever.

I turn my head to Claudia and she smiles at me again, and we dance.

--

Everyone has gone to bed by now, except for me and David. David pitched a fit about the mess everyone left in the living room, and how this was the worst idea ever, and how his family will never let him use their timeshare again. So I offered to help him clean up, and it took him about three minutes to actually agree to spend time alone with me.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" I pick up an empty bottle – Jack Daniels, I think it was Spot's or Splotch's or whatever his name is – and stumble to the garbage can we have sitting in the middle of the room.

"What makes you think that," David deadpans from the other side of the room, his arms full of empty liquor bottles.

"You don't look me in the eye and you won't talk to me. You act like I have the plague or something." I scoop up a half-empty wine bottle, and inspect it for a minute before taking a swig of the contents. "Do you think I'm like... intruding on your little clique or something?"

"Mush invited you. You couldn't be intruding." But when he says Mush's name, it's like he spits it.

I take another gulp of the wine and start walking toward David, but end up toppling onto the couch. "So this is about Mush, is it?" I sit up against the arm of the couch and try to look David in the eye, but it's kind of hard to do when the room is spinning the way that it is. "You think I'm trying to steal him from you or something?" David shrugs without looking at me and dumps his bottles into the garbage can. "Look, I know Mush and me, we're... we're kind of affectionate with each other."

"Kind of?" David scoffs. "You two are like a couple of high schoolers in your first relationship. You're practically attached at the lips."

"Hey!" I stand up, a little too quickly, which makes me sway and almost fall over, but I hold my ground. "That's not fair, David. We are not. Did..." I hiccup and slowly sit back down. "Did you know that Mush won't kiss me on the lips? He says that's something that only you get to do. He told me just the other day that he hasn't kissed another person on the lips since you guys started dating. Not one single person."

David stops and looks at me for a moment, like he doesn't believe me.

"You know, I'm really not all that bad, David. You _can_ get to know me. I'm not going to steal your boyfriend." I giggle a little at the thought. "I have no intentions of going down the straight and narrow, not even for a guy as pretty as Mush, and I'm pretty sure he's dead-set on not getting traded from the home team."

He opens up his mouth to say something, but then Mush appears at the top of the staircase. "Davey," he calls down, "are you coming to bed anytime soon? Jack and Blink are in the next room and giggling about something and it's really loud and I need something to distract me."

A hint of a smile plays across David's face, and I think it's the first time I've seen that happen. "Yeah," he says, looking around the room for more bottles, and seems to be satisfied that they're all put away. "I'm coming." He trots up the stairs to take Mush's hand, and Mush smiles at me.

"G'night, Christie," he says.

"G'night, Mush. Night, David."

David nods at me and he and Mush disappear, and not two seconds later, I hear a groan coming from somewhere in the room. I whip around and look over the back of the couch to see Skittery laying on the floor, clutching his head. He looks up at me and groans again.

"What time is it?"

I look at the clock. "Two-thirty."

"Where is everybody?" He sits up, grunting as he does so, and exhales heavily. "How long have I been out?"

"They all went to bed... we assumed you went up, like, two hours ago. Have you been back there the whole time?"

"I guess so... how much did I have to drink?"

"One highball... probably about three and a half shots' worth of vodka mixed with cranberry juice." I'm trying my hardest to suppress the giggles.

"Don't ever let me do that again," he moans, closing his eyes and pressing the heels of his hands to his temples.

"Skittery, has anyone ever told you you're a lightweight to the point of being pathetic?"

"Shut the fuck up and get me some aspirin."


	7. Fire!

You know what's really fun? Fire. I love fire. Not as much as Jack loves fire but I really love fire.

Fire, fire, fire. I could talk about it all day. So orange and pretty and flickering. Candles are the best and I like matches because you can play with them. There's also a trick that you can do with a lighter that makes the flame go up crazy high. Jack taught me how to do it freshmen year.

I pretty much consider Jack my best friend. I mean, mine used to be Mush and Jack's used to be David but when they got together when school started, we only had each other. He could have been best friends with Spot who he roomed with but Spot was too busy with Claudia and didn't really like Jack's hyperactivity.

I love it. We're kindred spirits. And we really clicked on this trip. I love that I'm rooming with him. I mean, who else would I be with? Mush and I used to share a room when we were little but he'd want to do the nasty with David in their own room. I know for a fact that they're doing it without listening to the moans and cries of 'Matt!' in the next room over. I mean, it's obvious when you see them come out of their room at school, all breathless and mussed up.

Oh, and I totally walked in on them in _flagrante delicto_ when he came to stay with us for winter break. And, hey, 'flagrante' totally reminds me of fire! Wicked!

Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah. Rooming with other people. I don't want to room with Spot 'cause he talks in his sleep and is a raging vegetarian. Nobody likes a vegetarian. I have a shirt that says it to prove it. And I don't want to be with Skittery because he's totally not mentally sound. And if I roomed with Specs or Dutchy, I'd have to spend all of my time listening to one of them complain about the other one. _Boring_. Plus, it's not like I can room with the girls because, well, for obvious reasons. Even if two of them are lesbians and one is pretty much one.

But anyway, Jack is the best roommate ever. I mean, who else thinks that we should tear down that stupid statue? Or light the oven on fire? We totally did that last one but Mush caught me in the act. He's such a sneaky little brat. He always used to tattle on me when we were little. But that's okay because dad would hit him for tattling and call him a 'half-nigger bastard' whatever that meant because he's white because, hello, both of our parents are white. And the n-word is evil and awful unless you're using it in jest and any black people there say it's okay.

Dude, it's like three in the morning and I cannot _sleep_. Jack is sleeping next to me, I think and he's real pretty when he sleeps. Like his hair falls in his face, and brushes against his lips and…augh ew! I'm calling a guy really pretty. Dude, my brother is gay. I am not gay. Not gay! I am straight.

Think of girls! Okay, the only straight on the trip is dating Jack who I just called pretty and, let's face it, she's not. And I'm not going to even bother with the lesbians. Plus, that blonde one is totally my brother's new best friend and I don't know why.

Okay, so maybe I haven't talked to her at all but still! She just seems really, really, _boring_ even if she did dance with Dutchy. But everyone was drunk so any insanity then didn't count.

You know, I could use a drink right about now. I mean, I had a lot tonight and I'm still all full from the burgers (okay, maybe I shouldn't have had five but they were really, really good) so I _should_ be tired. But I'm not. I'm completely wired and hyper. So I jump out of bed and go to wake up Jack.

"Jack!" I cry a lot louder then I should. "Wake up. I'm bored!"

Jack gives his little snuffle noise and rolls over. So I jump on him and bounce up and down, being really obnoxious and annoying.

"Jaaaack!" I whine. "Wake up or I'll sing that song from _Lambchop_!"

Jack gives another snuffle and tries to roll over. Time to bring out the big guns.

"This is the song that never ends! It just goes on and on, my friend! Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was! And they continued singing it forever just because this is the song that ne—"

I'm interrupted by Jack rolling over and tackling me to the floor, yelling about how annoying I am. I can't help it! Holidays always bring this out in me even if Spring Break isn't really a holiday, just one from school. Plus, I might be a little drunk still.

"Jack, I'm bored."

He sits up. "Me too. You woke me up and now I'm bored. What are we going to do?"

We smile at each other and go downstairs. There's an idea already formulating in my mind but I think Jack has one too.

And that's all right.

--

The others are greeted to a lovely sight. Jack and I have totally constructed this rad awesome pillow fort in the living room using all of the spare sheets and pillows in the linen closet and some throw pillows. I mean, aside from the pounding pain in my head, this is the best morning ever.

"What the hell?" David screams. "You guys better pick this up! Oh, my God!"

He's kind of freaking out but I think it's because Jack and I are in our fort in just our underwear and rolling around like crazy monkeys.

"John Francis Kelly!" Sara the shrew shrills. "You get out of there now!"

Everyone else is just grumbling because they're all hungover and don't want to deal with us. That's why everyone leaves us to be by ourselves.

"We have conquered the land!" Jack proclaims. Then we both grab our heads in pain.

"Owie," I moan. "I'd say I'd never drink again but I know I'm lying."

Jack nods. "Yeah. Super pain. Wanna go get painkillers?"

"No, they make me all weird. Plus, we'd leave our fort vulnerable to attack."

"And that's not cool."

That's how we spend our morning. At noon, everyone's hangovers have subsided and we're going to go to the beach. I kind of don't want to leave our fort but David makes us. I don't know what's so great about the beach anyway. It's an Oregon beach so it's going to suck ass!

--

As predicted, the beach blows. Spot and Claudia are sitting together on a towel, talking like they're the only two people in the world. Seriously, if they don't start hanging out with other people, they'll never get laid. Mush's little friend is sitting by herself and I'm tempted to go say hi but I'm having too much fun skimming rocks with Jack.

Sarah's sitting by herself too, reading some neo-feminist propaganda crap about how men are evil pig men and women are the pure and beautiful race. Ugh, how can someone as perfect and pretty as Jack be with such a bitch?

Okay, I just called him pretty again and that's _not_ cool.

Anyway, Specs and Dutchy are sitting far away from each other, pretending they're still not in love and Skittery disappeared an hour ago to find a Starbucks he can raid. And I think David and Mush are doing it on the beach because David secretly loves _From Here to Eternity_. Actually, I think Mush is piling on the affection because David seemed pissed at Christie last night. It's her fault for glomming onto him and not bothering to even talk to anybody else.

I mean, how hard is it to go 'Hey, Blink, how's it going?' Not hard at all! I know my patch kind of is unnerving but why can't she talk to Claudia, they're both dyke chicks? Or Dutchy, they're both blonde? She's just a spoilsport.

"Hey!" Jack calls to me after skimming a rock that jumped five times. "C'mere!"

I jog over to him and he produces a book of matches.

"Awesome!" I squeal.

"Wanna light 'em and throw 'em at people?"

"Yeah, yeah!"

God, I mean, who else in the world can share my obsession with fire?! No one! Just Jack!

But that stupid shrew comes over and notices the book of matches.

"No, Jack!" she shrews. "You're not allowed to have matches! There you go, disobeying me! It's just a like a man to—"

I don't care what boxers say, kicking sand into someone's face is totally fair fighting. How else was I supposed to shut her up?


	8. Captains

You know, sometimes I really hate going places with David. If he wasn't my best friend, I'd probably have thrown a firecracker into his locker in high school. But he is my best friend, so I guess I just have put up with him.

Oh, and that whole dating his sister thing.

Anyway. You wanna know why I hate going places with Dave? Because he always tries to force group bonding on us. First he made everybody go to the beach (which blew because a.) it's Oregon and b.) everyone did their own thing and there was no actual bonding) and _then_ he made us go out for this stupid seafood dinner at this stupid restaurant. He said that since we're at the beach, we have to eat seafood. I told him we go to school in Seattle and seafood is pretty much _all_ we eat, but he's David and he thinks I'm stupid so he doesn't listen to me. Blink agreed with me, but then reminded me that I was hungry and so I went along.

So we went to this lame-ass restaurant and Sarah spent the whole time glaring at Blink and brushing sand out of her hair, and Spot spent the whole time complaining about how he could barely eat anything on the menu, and Dutchy kept pestering Specs about why he could eat steamer clams if he's Jewish, and Specs told him to shut the fuck up, and they got into this huge fight and it _sucked_ because everyone else had to get involved. But I guess it wasn't that bad because Blink and I used this time to get the women's-rights pamphlets out of Sarah's purse and one by one light them on fire with the candles on the table.

As you can probably guess, Sarah didn't take too kindly to that, and she hasn't spoken to me since we got back to the house. Though, secretly, I don't really mind because the fact that she's not speaking to me means she's not nagging at me and calling me a chauvinist pig or an evil oppressor or what the fuck ever. Only problem is, Blink and I got into the liquor again and now I'm kind of horny and she won't let me fool around with her. She never lets me fool around with her. Not even when we first started dating, in high school, where everyone is always all over each other to mark their territory or whatever. It's like she thinks Jesus will strike her down if she lets a man touch her before she's married. Except she's Jewish, so she doesn't believe in Jesus, and... hey, that reminds me, she's Jewish! Why did she have shrimp for dinner? Oh my God, I'm turning into Dutchy. Next thing I know I'll be singing "Only the Good Die Young" at the top of my lungs.

In fact, I'm already humming it. You know, that piano part at the beginning is really kind of catchy.

"Jack!" Sarah is standing in the doorway of the room I'm sharing with Blink, with her hands on her hips. I sit up and smile at her.

"Hey, Sarah! Forgive me yet?" I smile innocently at her and move over on the bed, patting the open span of mattress.

"What did you do with the box of tampons that was in my suitcase?"

Oh, great. She's on the rag. Now I get to deal with Ultra Super Mega Bitch Femme-Nazi Psycho Hose Beast Sarah.

"Um... Well, Blink and I got bored, so we borrowed them."

"What the hell could you possibly use a box of tampons for?"

"Launching at seagulls... what else would we use them for?" I roll my eyes. Girls can be so _stupid_ sometimes.

Sarah throws her arms up. "Unbelievable! John Francis Kelly, you are un-fucking-believable!"

I shrug. "Hey, Sarah?"

"What?"

"If you're a virgin, why do you need super jumbo tampons?"

She gives me this look like she's going to rip my junk off and shove it down my throat. I'm not sure why, I mean, it's a perfectly legitimate question. But she gives this disgusted-sounding sigh and walks off, leaving me alone and very confused.

As soon as Sarah's door slams shut, I hear a scuffle downstairs.

"Dave, I swear, if you touch that, I'll kick your ass!"

"You are cleaning up this monstrosity right now! It's completely in the way!"

"It's not a monster, it's fucking bomb and you're just jealous because me and Jack built it and we won't let you in!"

"Get it out of my living room or I will destroy it myself!"

I get up and trot down the stairs to see Blink standing between David and our amazing pillow fort, both of them looking genuinely pissed off. "What's going on?"

"David wants to tear down our fort!"

"It's totally in the way! People can't get through the living room!"

I shrug. "So? It's not like people just hang out in the living room. They all kinda just hang out in their little cliques in different areas."

"Jack, how did you learn the word 'clique?'" David shakes his head. "Whatever. Never mind. I am destroying this thing first chance I get," he spits at Blink.

"Over my dead body," Blink says, glaring at David, even though glaring doesn't really work when you only have one eye.

David just glares back at him and then turns and pushes past me to go upstairs and probably whine at Mush until Mush fixes his hurts with butt-sex.

"We have to defend our territory, Jack."

"We will." I grin. "Plus, it gives us an excuse to sleep in the fort tonight."

Blink grins back at me and we race each other upstairs to get the blankets off our beds, pushing each other out of the way as we head down the hallway.

--

We settle down into our fort, snickering as we look around the living room through the small window we made with the pillows. This fort gets more and more awesome by the minute, especially since Blink made a sign that he hung on the front that says, "NO GIRLS ALLOWED" and underneath it, it says "NO SARAHS, EITHER" and it's awesome. I'm so glad me and Blink are friends. He's so rad.

Another thing that totally escalates Blink's radness is the fact that I don't have to be all uncomfortable in pajamas just so he doesn't get weirded out by some guy laying next to him in his underwear, because he's in his boxers, too. Well, his boxers and the admiral's hat I made for him out of newspaper. It matches mine. Together we're the Captains of Awesome.

"You think Sarah's going to kick your ass for the sign?" Blink asks me.

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. "Nah. Not my handwriting."

"Great. So she's going to kill me."

"Well, you can just kick sand in her face if she gets close to you." We both start laughing hysterically before Claudia yells from the top of the stairs for us to shut the hell up. We quiet down and Blink yawns, so I look at my watch and see that it's nearly three in the morning. "Maybe we should get some sleep."

--

Waking up in the morning is nice because I'm all warm and cozy, snuggled down into the blankets with someone's arms wrapped around me. I grin because I figure Sarah's forgiven me, so I decide to take this opportunity to put my morning wood to use. I yawn and turn over, and my groin brushes against something equally stiff. What the hell? Is she wearing a freaking chastity belt now?

I open my eyes and take in the sight before me: blond hair, pale skin, pouty lips, and... an eye patch?

At this moment, those lips twitch into a smile and one blue eye opens to meet mine. We both yelp and scramble out of the fort, standing and staring at each other for a moment. Blink looks genuinely freaked out, and I don't blame him, because I feel the same.

I drag a hand through my hair and exhale. "Uh... I'm... I'm gonna go take a shower, you... hold down the fort. Make sure David doesn't tear it down."

Blink nods and I dash up the stairs to the bathroom, not even bothering to turn on the hot water as I step into the shower.

--

Forty-five minutes later, I head downstairs, wet and freezing but feeling a lot better. As I walk into the living room, I see our fort in shambles on the floor, with a note on top of it saying "These go in the linen closet."

Just as I turn to yell for Blink, he comes out of the kitchen wearing his boxers and admiral's cap, doing a weird little two-step as he shovels CoCo Puffs into his mouth. "I'm bringin' sexy back," he sings between bites with milk dribbling down onto his chest. "Yeah!"

"BLINK!"

Blink looks at me, and I point to the pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the floor. "Son of a bitch!"

I glare at him and sigh. "I told you to watch the fort!"

He looks up at me again, looking innocent and seriously sorry. "I got hungry."


	9. Couples

I love curling up on the couch with a good book. It's just insanely comforting. Granted, said book is over one thousand pages long and I've been reading for a month and am, oh, about three hundred pages in.

For my birthday, Thomas got me the uncut version of _The Stand_ and over five hundred pages have been added. For the most part, it's characters I don't care about thrown in but Thomas actually bought it for me and the gesture's sweet.

Everyone else has retired upstairs except for Blink and Jack who finally passed out in their pillow fort but I'm taking comfort in the somewhat solitude of night. With our group, it's very rare that you get a moment alone and I'm relishing in it. The book's open on my lap and the only sound is my turning the page.

"I knew you were up still."

I glance up to see Thomas standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks ridiculous. His hair is all in his face and his undershirt is twisted and wound in the back.

"You know me too well, Thomas." I smile.

He comes over and sits on the couch next to me. I unfurl my legs and place them on his lap. Thomas rubs his hands up and down them. I refuse to wear pajama shorts to bed so my legs are constantly covered in flannel or fleece when I sleep and when Thomas sleeps against it, it makes his hair get all static-y. It's an amazing sight.

I place the book, which could probably double as a lethal weapon should the house be robbed, on the table and scooch closer to him.

"How's rooming with Skittery?"

Thomas shrugs. "He gave me a bag full of his discarded, purple Skittles as some sort of peace offering."

"I think he knows that you're the only person on the face of the planet who _likes_ the purple Skittles."

Thomas grabs my arms and wrenches them above my head. I let out a rather inelegant shriek and fall backwards. He's nimble when he wants to be.

"Stop it, grass-eater!" I squeak, my voice reaching a pitch only a ventriloquist dummy could be proud of.

He pauses. "That could be taken very dirtily if I were straight."

I use my legs, which are still free, to kick him and wriggle free.

"You're gross," I say in a mock haughty voice.

"Oh, yeah?"

Thomas jumps on top of me and starts tickling me mercilessly. I'm probably the only person to have seen him do this since he keeps up this silly tough guy act just because he happens to be helplessly short. Not that I have room to talk. I'm one of the few people shorter than him. He calls me 'Dwarf' all the time. Lovingly, of course.

Thomas rearranges himself so he can attack me more successfully and he has these ropy muscles that come from _nowhere_ and are incredibly strong. Meanwhile, my arms are weak little sticks attached to my body. I try fending him off but it's no use.

"Excuse me. Just getting a glass of water."

Thomas stops and I crane my neck to see that Christie girl hurrying through the living room. Her face is bright red. I'm confused for a moment but then it dawns on me.

She doesn't know of A: my sexuality or B: of Thomas's sexuality. We were just caught in what could be misconstrued as a compromising position. I chuckle. As if. Even if I were straight and we lived in a magical land where everyone was, I wouldn't date Thomas. I'd probably go for a smart, serious guy like David because he's lived his entire life with a freaky bitch so he could probably handle one. Not that I'm a freaky bitch…most of the time. But seriously, Thomas and I are nearly the same person. And we're gay!

"I think she likes you," Thomas says sagely.

I hit him in the chest and the battle begins again. I'm sick of everyone insinuating that we should go out. It's like a broken Michael Bolton record. Repetitive and possibly the most irritating thing ever.

Thomas and I topple off of the couch and are so twisted around each other that it looks like we're on an invisible Twister mat. Christie takes this moment to walk in, see us and then scarper away up the steps.

Thomas pokes his head up and cackles.

"Seriously, I think she likes you."

I chest him and we start in again.

--

We awake together on the floor, in a tangle of limbs.

"Seriously, how are you two gay?" Blink is standing above us, a bagel in one hand and an unpeeled banana in another.

Thomas and I unwind from each other and I grab my book quickly. Partly, I want to start reading again and partly, I want to bash Blink's head in. He's so snarky with his stupid, clown mouth. I want to shove something in it. Like the book.

Alright, maybe I'm hanging around Thomas too much.

"We were fighting and then fell asleep," I say and it slowly dawns on me that my hair will be even more unmanageable. Eh, whatever. I never really care about my hair much anyway. I'll just steal one of Thomas's hats.

Blink cackles like a Halloween witch. "Nice."

Thomas straightens himself and folds his arms over his chest.

"Hey, what about you and Jack? How are you two _straight_?"

Blink's face visibly pales and I giggle under my breath. Point Thomas Conlon.

"What'd ya mean?" he asks dumbly.

"I mean that you two are all over each other all the time."

Blink shrugs and shuffles away. I grin at Thomas. Go him. Although, I agree. Blink and Jack have been way too buddy-buddy on this trip. But it could just be that they're "really good friends" like Thomas and me.

But I doubt that.

--

David was going to impose more "fun-time bonding" on us but thankfully, the sky has opened up and God is pissing on us.

Alright, that is possibly the most disturbing mental picture I've ever had. We're all sitting around the living room. Dutchy tried to get the TV working twenty minutes ago but found that we could only get Telemundo and the Sci-fi channel. Since none of us speak Spanish, we've opted for the latter.

Sci-fi is showing a marathon of Stephen King movies and I think that, given what I'm reading, it's rather convenient. I'm a huge Stephen King dork and I'm not even afraid to admit it. Not that everyone doesn't know already.

Although, I must say, that a majority of the movies suck.

"Why are they showing _Stand By Me_?" David asks. "That's King but it's not scary."

"Don't question the makers of _Raptor_ _Island_ and _Sasquatch Mountain_, Davey," Specs advised sagely. "Obviously, no one with actual brains works on the Sci-fi network."

"Which is why they took MST3K off," Dutchy adds and then shuts up, realizing that he just agreed with Specs.

Everyone sighs. We're all getting tired of the whole, Specs and Dutchy fight. I don't think _they_ even know what they're fighting about anymore.

They look like they're going to start up again but Mush intervenes.

"Can we all please be quiet and watch the kid from _Star Trek: Next Generation_ find a dead body?" he asks, leaning into David.

I don't know if Mush has ever watched _Star Trek: Next Generation_ but I figure David is probably a bit of a trekkie and told him that. I notice that while they're spooning, Christie is sitting all by herself. I feel kind of bad. We've all got kind of a clique since we've gotten here: Thomas and me, David and Mush, Jack and Blink and sometimes Sarah, Specs and Dutchy even though they'd kill each other before they'd admit and then Skittery…well, Skittery's in a league of his own. Christie doesn't have anyone to sit with.

She's watching Thomas and me who are curled up in a position that even I'd have to say is rather couple-y.

I give her a wave and she glances away. Alright…what was that?


End file.
